Letters of Correspondence
by TheLittleLuPone
Summary: After his heart attack, Mr. Carson realizes he could have missed his opportunity to tell Ms. Hughes exactly how he feels. Finding that he cannot muster the courage to talk to her about it, he writes her a letter instead. Set mid-season 1. Contains the relationship that all Downton fans are routing for! Carson/Hughes
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

**I plan on this being a multi-chapter fic, so if you don't want to lose this in the pile of Downton stories I would love for you to follow it. All characters are owned and all rights are reserved by Julian Fellows. Many "thank you"-s to my lovely beta, ****_MonaLove_****. You should all go read her beautiful work! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I am enjoying writing it.**

* * *

Ms. Hughes pushed open the attic door without a knock. "Mr. Carson, I've co- ", she heard his snores before seeing his sleeping form. When she turned to see him slumped against the headboard, a forgotten book in his lap, she smiled to herself. The sight of him relaxing without a care was as much a comfort as it was sobering.

Seeing him still, peaceful, and taking time for himself, warmed her heart. It was what she wanted for him. What he deserved. Although the thought of what brought him here, made her heart sink. His heart attack was the hardest thing she had yet to face at Downton. The sight of this strong tower of man, the glue that held the house together, clutching his heart and sinking to his knees, was one she was thankful she missed. The instant she heard, Elsie had sprinted to his room, bursting through the door and going to his bedside. Clutching the bedpost with a strangling grip, she waited to hear what Dr. Clarkson said. "Minor heart attack" the doctor announced, and she expelled a breath she forgot she had been holding.

Charles snorted loudly in his sleep, the book falling from his lap and onto the floor with a thud soft enough to leave him sleeping. Giggling to herself, she went to pick up the book and lay it on his nightstand table. Grabbing the tray beside it, she turned to leave, stopping to whisper, "Sleep well, Mr. Carson." Elsie shut the door behind her, groaning at the sight of stairs at the end of the hallway.

She had been drowning in her own thoughts for the past few days. Knowing that Mr. Carson would be back on his feet tomorrow did not ease her mind much. It was a relief to hear that his heart attack was minor. However, she knew that the stubborn butler would never take Dr. Clarkson's advice. Soon he would be back to his old ways, moving too fast and taking on too much.

Leaning over the rail to see the three flights of stairs still left, she sighed. She sat down on the steps, setting the tray beside her. Mr. Carson was not the only one getting older. She cradled her head in her hands, massaging her temples. Although most of her days were spent worrying and caring for others, looking after Mr. Carson had taken an extra toll on her. It was so different watching over him, it was a desire rather than an obligation, as if her heart were leading her up the stairs to his room every hour.

Three flights below, she heard a door swing open and quick feet run hurriedly up a floor. The scurrying reminded her that there was work to be done, beginning with the washing of Mr. Carson's breakfast tray. Elsie picked herself up and descended the stairs, her breathing strained.

When she got to the kitchen, Mrs. Patmore was running about, with multiple dishes on the stove and a few in the oven. Screaming harshly at Daisy, she assigned task after task, eliciting timid "Yes, Ms. Patmore"-s from the timid girl.

Not wanting to put any more pressure on Daisy, Elsie moved to the sink to wash the dishes herself. Taking the porridge-stained bowl from the tray, she noticed a crisp white envelope hiding beneath it with _"Elsie Hughes"_ scrawled neatly on the front. Written in the sleek curls and elegant lines of the butler's cursive, her name looked more beautiful than she had ever seen it. The dirty dishes suddenly forgotten, she left the kitchen, opening the envelope as she walked to her sitting room. Falling ungracefully onto the settee, she unfolded the letter.

* * *

_My Dearest Elsie,_

_It must seem strange to see your Christian name written, for it is as much of an oddity to write it, as well. To refer to you so intimately is a rare treat I shall cherish. It is the dead of the night, yet I find myself unable to sleep. The darkness is quite freeing, inspiring confidence I am sure I shall lose by morning. These past days have opened my eyes greatly. I have been forced to consider the time I have left, and the things I've yet to accomplish. The most urgent of those being to award the person most important to me, my full honesty. That person is most definitely you. Elsie, you are more special to me than anything. I cherish the time you have given me this week. I can only dream that someday I may return the kindness and devotion you have shown me. When I was overcome by my spell, my greatest fear overwhelmed my mind. I realized my life could be ending without admitting my love for you. Perhaps that was not the most sentimental wording, but I am not a man of words. No matter how it is said, it shall remain true always. Elsie Hughes, I love you more than my words or actions could ever show. I regret so terribly that I have not told you sooner. That I could not muster the courage to admit my admiration the day you walked into Downton. That was the day I decided I would spend the rest of my life with you. I suppose we have done that, yet not in the way I had dreamed of. Losing focus, I let myself settle for watching you from afar, completely entranced by my Scottish Goddess. I have always loved you my beautiful woman, and I always shall. I hope nothing more than for you to know and believe this. I do not expect for you to feel the same, and shall not be disappointed if my assumption is true. Envisioning you reading this, picturing your face as you realize how dearly you are loved, will somehow help me sleep easier._

_Undeniable and Eternally Yours,  
Charles Carson_

* * *

Elsie sat frozen, biting back a wide smile, her cheeks wet with tears. She folded the letter back and held it to her chest. She had always thought of Charles the same, and it seemed his description of settling for less was a reflection of her choices as well. She too had grown lazy, giving up on the idea of him returning her love. After being appointed Head Housemaid, spare time for flirting and courting had dwindled dramatically to sly smiles and formal "Hello"-s. By the time they were appointed Housekeeper and Butler, they would go an entire day without speaking to one another. After dinner they would sit, sipping wine and making meaningless small talk, both wanting more but too afraid to ask.

Her feelings had never wavered through the years. She still yearned for him greatly. Still thought about him in the dark and silence of night, when she was forced to face her loneliness. She would lie alone and think how easy it would be to go to him. He was only a few steps down the hallway. Yet the fear of him not returning her love, bound her to the bed like shackles. Each morning she would wake and begin the day, counting the hours until she could sit with him by the fire. Each day telling herself that this would be the night she will finally confess her love to him. Yet always in the back of her mind, she knew she could not.

As wonderful as the contents of the letter were, it put Elsie in an odd position. She was now forced to make the first move. She would have to be the one to admit her feelings aloud. To look Charles in the eye and confess her love for him. Or perhaps, she wouldn't...

Rushing over to her desk, Elsie pulled out a piece of paper and an envelope. She sat down and began to write the most important letter of her life.

* * *

_My Most Cherished Charles,_

* * *

**Review if you have time, I adore hearing your suggestions and critiques.**


	2. Chapter 2

Elsie used her full bottom to push the door open, backing her way in with a tray in her arms. On the polished silver tray sat Charles' dinner. "Mr. Carson?" she asked as she had this morning, once again in place of a foregone knock.

"Good Evening, Mrs. Hughes." His normally booming voice, was slightly timid. His heart beating out of his chest, Charles set the book he had been reading, down in his lap.

Moving to the bed, Elsie set the tray down on his lap. She was close enough for him to smell her rarely worn perfume. He took a deep breath, drinking in her scent until the point of intoxication.

"Good evening," she smiled, as if her life had not been flipped on its side a mere matter of hours ago. Motioning to the colorful book, she asked, "What have you got there?"

Still focused on the sweet floral scent she wore, his answer was delayed, "Oh! Umm..." he flipped it around and squinted at the title.

"Looks like you'll be the next one headed to the eye specialist," she quipped playfully.

Charles chuckled slightly at the joke made at the cook's expense, "I suppose so. It's called..._The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_. I believe it was a birthday present to Lady Mary when she was still very young."

"Do you always indulge in children's literature?" Elsie giggled at the sight of this strong, assertive man reading young Lady Mary's bedtime stories.

"Not always, Mrs. Hughes. Only when I send Daisy to find reading material,"

"I suppose you brought it upon yourself then!" The room grew quiet and Charles began eating.

All he could think about before she had come was his letter. Would she be offended? Would she return his feelings? Be embarrassed by his improper forwardness? Charles wondered if she had found it at all, or if someone else had cleaned the tray. The second he saw her though, his mind was set as ease. Elsie's playful nature comforted him as it always had, making him feel carefree and open.

Elsie stretched an arm across Charles' legs to grab the book, opening it to inspect. He watched her eyes run across the pages, putting his fork down to admire her fully. His eyes scanned over her slowly, soaking in all of her beauty. Having Elsie this close to him, in a chair beside his bed, just the two of them, was pure bliss. He wished in vain that every day could be like this, just the two of them. He noticed that her hair was much looser tonight, and that she had opted for a dark shirt and rich maroon skirt instead of her uniform.

Charles wondered why she would take the time to change clothes when she would only be getting into her nightgown soon anyway. He tried to put his thoughts away from this scenario. Her changing into an airy white nightdress, her dark hair falling around her shoulders. Putting his thoughts elsewhere, Charles toyed with the idea that she had dressed up for him, which made him smile. That couldn't be it though, perhaps the staff was going into town tonight?

Elsie scanned the page, pretending to pay attention its contents. She wondered if Charles had noticed her dress, the way she had styled her hair, the perfume that she only wore for holidays and the Servant's ball. Looking up, she saw him staring back at her, a warm smile in his eyes.

Embarrassed, he cleared his throat and looked down at his food, picking up the fork again. Elsie toyed with the idea that he had been staring at her slightly different appearance, and she blushed. That couldn't be it though, perhaps he just thought it odd that she would concern herself with a children's book.

"This Gulch woman reminds me of Miss O'Brien," Elsie offered to lighten the mood.

It worked, Charles chuckled. "I thought so as well. Great minds think alike, do they not?"

Smiling warmly at him, Elsie's nerves piqued again. Although her performance of normalcy was convincing so far, she hoped the rest of her plan would go smoothly. Heavy under Charles' gaze again, she fidgeted. When he finally looked away, she quickly, but silently took a white envelope from her pocket and slid it between the pages of the tall book. The ivory pages swallowed it completely, hiding the words "_Charles Carson_" that were in crisp feminine scrawl.

Charles took a sip of his tea, completely oblivious to her reply hiding in the pages of his book.

Elsie returned the novel to his nightstand, saying, "It has been odd not seeing you downstairs. Mr. Bates and Thomas are doing well though. Mr. Bates has been watching over the footmen, and I hear Thomas is running the dining room just as you taught him."

"That is comforting to know. I hate to see how far back three days absence has put on my rotas, though," Charles raised his eyebrows, truly dreading returning to the high stack of paperwork he knew was waiting for him.

"Nothing to worry about there either Mr. Carson, I have it all taken care of. I don't despise paperwork as much as you."

"Oh, Elsie. There was no need for that, but I thank you anyway. That is a great help." He didn't notice he had used her Christian name until he saw the blush creep up on her face. "I apologize Mrs. Hughes, I'm not sure why I referred to you like that. Perhaps it is the medication," What he had left out, was how wonderful and natural it had felt to let his propriety slack with her.

"It's quite all right, Charles. I'm fond of hearing my name once in a while, so long as it's from the right person." She leaned in towards the bed to lay her hand on his shoulder. "You may call me Elsie whenever you feel it appropriate."

He smiled widely, overjoyed with her offer. "And the same should go for you...Elsie."

When she pulled her hand back, his heart cried out for it to return. It screamed for him to touch her as well. To brush against her skin, and indulge in the smooth warmth he longed for. His better judgement made him refrain, not wanting to overwhelm or frighten her.

"Well, I'd better let you rest. Tomorrow is going to be a big day," Elsie stood up slowly, somewhere in the back of her mind hoping he would tell her to stay.

Seeing as how Elsie hadn't mentioned the letter, Charles stifled his desire to pull her to him by the wrist and beg for her to stay. "Indeed it is, Mrs. H- Elsie. I expect it will feel nice to get back in the swing of things."

"I'll say this much," she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder again, staring deeply into his eyes, "you've been missed downstairs."

Charles reached over to take her dainty hand into his own large paw. "Elsie, I cannot thank you enough for caring for me." His eyes flickered between the sight of their joined hands, and her deep blue eyes that were also locked on their hands.

Elsie stayed silent, waiting for the results of the heated battle waging within her. She made her decision, "No thanks needed. I'm sure you would have done the same for me."

Nodding in agreement, Charles smiled up at her warmly. He let go of Elsie's hand to pass her his tray, even though the thought of her leaning over him to reach into his lap was tempting. She took it from him and turned for the door, silently cursing herself for not telling him "You will never know how much I care for you", as she had wanted to.

Charles leaned back into the pillows, closing his eyes to silently curse himself for not telling her "I'd do anything for you", as he had wanted to.

Situating the tray in her hands, she opened the door, calling over her shoulder, "Goodnight, Charles,"

"So long as yours is as well," he immediately felt foolish for such a cliché remark. He hoped she didn't see him the same as he saw himself, a poorly worded teenager, in love for the first time.

Closing the door behind her, Elsie leaned on the wall beside the door and released the wide grin she had been biting back. "_So long yours is as well_," it had been such a simple remark, but it made her heart soar, made her feel special and cared for. She sighed and shook her head, feeling like an inexperienced teenager, in love for the first time. A door slammed shut in the women's quarters, shaking her from her daydream. Standing up straight, Elsie composed herself and headed for the stairs.

* * *

Charles sat, massaging his temples, nervous about his letter. What if she had read it and thought him foolish? What if Daisy or Ms. Patmore found it instead? What if it was swirling around the house, a great joke for the staff? He reached over for the colorful children's book, desperate for anything that might distract him. Thumbing through the novel, he searched for where he left off. A white envelope slid out from between the pages, landing in his lap. "_Charles Carson_" was scrawled on the front in small feminine writing. He ripped the envelope open, impatient and eager. Unfolding the letter he began reading...

* * *

_My Most Cherished Charles,_

_You cannot image how wonderful it felt to see my name written, especially knowing whose hand it was from. I suppose it is a feeling similar to the one I know I shall get when you begin to call me by it. If the confidence of darkness inspired such a beautiful letter, I want nothing more than to stay with you always, in a room with the blinds down and the candles unlit. I too have seen things differently since you fell ill. When I heard, I felt as if I were watching a vase drop, but couldn't move to catch it. To think of you like that, worried and in pain, and knowing I cannot take it away, makes my heart ache. I only hope that I have helped in some degree to make you as comfortable as possible. The silence between us is as much my fault, as yours. It seems our feelings when I arrived at Downton were the same. I did not see you as the tall and devoted footmen, but the young and kind man who I was sure would change my life. And you have done that Charles, perhaps without even knowing. You have given me the most valuable of friendships. Yet, I yearn for more. I long for you at night as I lie alone, thinking of you. You invade my mind constantly. My love for you is insatiable Charles Carson, and I have never wanted or needed anything the way I crave you. I crave to hear your booming voice fill a room. To watch you work, so strong and driven. To lean in close and smell your aftershave. To feel you hold me close, your lips on mine. I could not explain this love I have for you if my life depended upon it. My love is something so strong and natural that I don't quite understand it. It came on so quickly. And yet, I promise you this. It shall never cease._

_You have my heart always,_  
_Elsie Hughes_

* * *

Charles looked up from the letter, jaw slack. He shook his head, thinking "_It can't be true_". This had to be a joke. A cruel attempt at blackmail by Thomas or O'Brien? But if it were true, if for some reason all of his hopes and desires were suddenly reality, his life would be perfect. If Elsie Hughes, this goddess of a woman could truly love a man like him. If she loved _him_...Charles Carson. He sat speechless, a wide smile on his lips. The door swung open without an introduction.

"Charles, I accidentally took your water-" she noticed the letter in his hands as he stared up at her, awestruck. Elsie barreled on, determined to follow her plan. "I thought I'd refresh it so you'd have something during the night." Putting the glass on his nightstand table, she stood still at his bedside with a loving smile. "Well, goodnight for real this time," she joked with an adorable giggle.

"What is this?" he asked kindly, his voice seeping with hope. He handed her the letter, praying that she had written it and he wasn't showing her something she'd never seen.

She scanned it slowly, biting her cheek to keep a straight face. "A letter, I suppose," she quipped, handing it back with a smirk.

"Did you write this?" he asked. All the love and amazement he felt for her there, in his eyes.

"Well, that is _my_ signature!" Another witty remark. Elsie walked towards the door. "Sleep well," she called kindly, closing the door behind her.

Charles sat frozen in bed, his heart pounding in his chest. His mind unable to think of anything except how utterly and undeniably happy he was.

* * *

Elsie leaned against the wall as she had earlier, biting her bottom lip as she smiled widely. All she could think about was how utterly and undeniably in love she was.

* * *

**Hopefully I can keep with this uncharacteristic fast updating and have chapter three to you soon. Thank you so much for reading and please review if you have time! Your feedback is gold.**


	3. Chapter 3

Charles was already awake, dressed and seated on the edge of his bed as the knock intended to wake him, sounded through the room.

"Thank you," he called in his booming voice. He hadn't slept more than an hour the night before, instead sitting up to reread Elsie's letter until its words were burned into his mind and heart. Today, was as Elsie had called it, "the big day". If only she knew how big of a day it would be. The thought of her finding his surprise, made him smile as he hurried along with his morning.

Opening the door, Charles replayed her words in his mind. He turned and went back to his vanity to dab on more of the aftershave that Elsie had mentioned enjoying for good measure. Shutting the door behind him, Charles made his way towards the stairs. The first few steps caused him no trouble. But as he continued descending, his breath became shallow and labored. When reaching the landing, Charles leaned against the wall, closing his eyes. Then he heard the faint jingle of keys and a few hurried but dainty steps above him. Charles pushed himself from the wall, still breathing hard and tried the next few steps. The thought of her seeing him like this, an old man, having to stop with every other step was terribly embarrassing.

"Oh!" Elsie blushed when she saw him. She had woken up earlier than usual to avoid him. Not because she didn't want to see him. No, she had spent all night suppressing her lusty desire to see him. The desire to break her own rule, and use her keys to visit him in the night. She had been so nervous for this morning though, to work beside him. So she had woken herself up early to get as much done as possible before seeing him and undoubtedly forgetting all responsibilities. "Good Morning Cha-," she stopped herself, remembering they were no longer in the privacy of his room, "Mr. Carson." She corrected, nodding curtly.

"Good Morning, Mrs. Hughes," he said, avoiding eye contact in an attempt to hide his struggle.

"I trust you slept well?" Elsie was still smiling widely up at him, choosing to ignore how distant he seemed.

"Indeed, quite well. And you Ms. Hughes?" His voice remained cold and uninterested, figuring the less he spoke the more breath he could conserve.

She noticed anyway, didn't she always notice? "Not my best night, Mr. Carson. Are you feeling quite alright?" She froze on the step they shared to stare at him.

"Of course," His response was unintentionally snide and breathy as he continued his steady descent.

Following close behind, she leaned in to whisper, "Charles..." He kept walking, his panting louder than her voice now.

"Charles!" She scolded loudly, no longer caring who heard. The only thing she was concerned with was his well-being. Stopping him with a hand on his shoulder, Elsie gave him a worried look.

"Mrs. Hughes, please? I'm fine. I can handle a flight of stairs." The words were hard to make out between his pants. As they reached the landing, he slumped against the wall to catch his breath.

"Charles, are you sure you're up to working so soon after falling ill? Another day or two in bed wouldn't hurt." Elsie laid a soft, cool hand on his head to gauge his temperature.

"Yes...I'm fine." He broke into a fit of coughs, leaning over to clutch his knees.

"Oh, Charles you stubborn man, come on. Let's go back upstairs." Elsie put a comforting arm around his waist in an attempt to turn him around.

"No!" He shrugged off her arm. "I said no!"

Elsie backed away, hurt and confused. "Alright then," she said softly, staring at up at him, feeling dejected. She turned, leaving Charles on the landing, and finished the trek downstairs alone.

* * *

Elsie unlocked her sitting room and sat at her desk. She needed to think before seeing him again at breakfast. As she replayed their encounter in her head, her confusion shifted to anger. All she had tried to do was care for him. To show him her love through actions. She had the right to take care of him, after all she was his...She was what? His wife? No. His fiancé? No. The woman he was courting? _Hardly._ She was nothing more than a woman he had taken a fancy to. A woman who he didn't care about enough to speak with outside of letters.

Elsie popped out of her seat and went to request Daisy bring her breakfast to her sitting room. So that she may begin her rotas early, and avoid Charles entirely.

* * *

When the staff sat down for lunch, Elsie made a point to tilt her chair away from his. If she were honest, she didn't want to be sitting at this table at all, let alone next to him. Missing two meals in a row would have spurred gossip though, so she had forced herself to show up, angry and lacking an appetite.

"Is your day going well, Ms. Hughes?" Charles low enough to differentiate from the other conversations at the table.

"Quite," Elsie answered briskly, without looking up from the fork she was twirling in her stew to keep occupied.

"That's nice to hear," Charles told her sincerely, watching her eat. He could tell something was bothering her, but thought it best to ask away from prying ears who knew were always listening. "There are a few house matters I would very much like to discuss after lunch. If that's quite alright,"

"Actually, my day is rather busy. Perhaps later," when she pushed her chair back, a loud _squeak _quieted the rest of the room. "Excuse me," she told, rather than asked the staff before leaving the dining room.

* * *

Charles excused himself after lunch, claiming there was an impending issue with the guest rooms he needed Mrs. Hughes advice on. For good measure, he had decided to bring her an afternoon tea tray with a blend he had chosen himself. His presence was not missed, and even if it had been he would have pressed his luck for a chance to see her. The last time he saw Elsie act this way was when they had discovered Ethel's indiscretions. Then it had been exhilarating-even arousing-to see her angry, to watch the passion inside of her spill out. Her rage was much less appealing to him now though, when he could only assume he was the cause.

"Mrs. Hughes?" He asked with a knock. "May I come in?" Neither asked for permission to enter the other's rooms anymore. However, today Charles could tell he was treading on eggshells and a bit of chivalry would do him good.

"I suppose," she answered snidely. When he did enter, she didn't bother to look up. "Yes?" She asked, wanting to make this encounter as short and painless as possible.

"I brought a tray of tea and cakes. It seemed you may need something to brighten your spirits." His tone was sweet and laced with love. Setting the tray onto the little table between the chairs they had sat and talked in for years, he poured her a cup. A true gentlemen, Charles stayed standing until she offered him a seat.

"My spirits are quite all right. But, thank you." She faked gratitude.

"Are you quite alright Elsie? I get the feeling something is on your mind..."

"You don't say?" She finally looked up to show him the sarcasm on her face.

"Then what is it that's bothering you. You know you can always speak freely with me."

"It's nothing to worry yourself over, _Mr. Carson_." Elsie stressed his formal name to show that they were in a different place now than they were last night. Flirtatious comments, desire filled looks, and Christian names were the last thing on her mind now.

"I enjoy worrying over you." His tone dropped as he realized she may be trying to push him away. Perhaps she was having second thoughts or simply wrote the letter to flatter an old, sick man. Charles covered her dainty hand, where it lie on her desk, with his own, knowing that shying away from his touch would be the sign he needed.

Elsie froze, staring at his firm but soft hand where it swallowed hers completely. Charles ran his thumb up the side of her wrist, and her heart melted, cracking the façade she had built. Using her free hand to cradle her head, she tried desperately to hold back her tears. The housekeeper was as confused as ever.

Staring into her deep brown eyes, Charles squeezed her hand and whispered, "It's alright. Tell me what it is that's worrying you."

The love in his voice only confused her more, breaking the dam that held back her tears.

"Oh, my Elsie." He stood up, pulling her with him. Charles wrapped his arms around her in a hug they had seldom shared before, causing Elsie's sobs to grow louder.

"You confuse me." She whispered into his broad chest between sobs.

His heart dropped knowing he had caused this sorrow in her. "Oh, Elsie. I'm so sorry. What have I done?" He asked kindly, clutching her tighter to him.

She pulled back quickly, wiping her tears away. "I meant everything I wrote, and you didn't! Not one word!" She accused with a finger to his tear-stained coat.

"But I did! I meant all of it, every word, every sentence." He told her, taking a step close to grab her hand.

"Then why were you so cold with me this morning?"

"What have I done this morning?" he asked completely curious and willing to apologize.

"On the way downstairs, you were short of breath and I knew you were in pain. Yet, you shrugged me off when I tried to care for you."

"Oh, my dearest." He pulled her back into his arms, resting his chin on her head. "I am so foolish. You must promise not to listen to an old fool like me ever again." He sighed when she let a little giggle slip through her tears. "I was embarrassed...and prideful...and-and terribly daft! I did not want you to see me as an old man who couldn't handle a flight of stairs..." Realizing the ramifications of his stubbornness, he became terribly ashamed. "I apologize, Elsie."

Elsie swatted at his arm playfully. "Oh you daft man! Nothing could change the way I feel about you. Especially not the fact that you need my help every once in a while. I enjoy caring for you," she told him timidly, sniffling back her tears. Nervous jitters began replacing her anger.

Charles stepped back to hold her at arm's length. Staring directly into her eyes, he confessed, "Elsie Hughes, I love you."

She smiled widely and bit her bottom lip. "And I love you, Charles Carson."

"Then clean up those tears, woman." He joked, running his thumb beneath her eye.

Covering his hand with her own, she used it to cup her cheek. She stared intently at his lips, hoping he would understand what she was asking for.

"Elsie?" he asked, love in his eyes.

"Yes...you can kiss me." She answered with a nervous grin, before closing her eyes and waiting intently.

Charles' chuckle echoed through the room as he leaned in slowly, placing his lips to hers in an innocent first kiss. Elsie moved both of her hands to the back of his head, pulling him closer to her. Charles brought her bottom lip between his, sucking and massaging it between his lips before pulling away with a proud smile.

"I love you," he told her again.

"I love you too," she told him, feeling her eyes once again swell with tears.

Charles pulled a small white envelope from his pocket and handed it to her. "I had a difficult time sleeping last night. All the things I wanted to say to you kept me awake, so I wrote them down."

She smiled down at the letter. Not expecting to receive another, but excited all the same. "Thank you," she said shyly.

"Have a wonderful day, my dearest one." He told her, pulling her hand up to kiss.

"So long as you do," She parroted back what he had told her the night before.

He chuckled and turned for the door, stopping to say, "I'll see you after dinner tonight." Although the plan to confess his love and share their first kiss in the glow of the fire had not gone accordingly, Charles had the rest of the day to improve on his plans for their nightcap.

"Always, Charles." When he was gone she took a seat in the chair closest to the tea he had left for her. Ripping the envelope with "My Love" written on the front, she pulled out the letter and began to feast her starving eyes...

* * *

_My Beloved Elsie,_

_When I found your response, I thought I may fall under another attack. You have inspired something within me that I have never known. It is as if your love for me has caused my entire world to brighten. I think perhaps it is impossible to love you any more than I do at this moment. However, when I envision our future, I know this cannot be true. I know that with every day we spend together, I shall learn something new about you. Something so enthralling that it pulls me deeper into the spell you have woven. I have entered a blissful phase of submission, giving myself completely to you and wanting nothing more than to have you for my own as well. Even though I know that such a beautiful creature as you could never be mine. I am undeserving of such beauty - Such perfection. I could never deserve the way the light dances off your dark silk hair. The way every move you make is an exquisite dance step. The way you nibble on your bottom lip when you are feeling particularly nervous or perplexed. Don't bite too hard, my love. I value every inch of you far too much for you to go about damaging it. Elsie, you mustn't tempt me by describing yourself thinking of me in the night. I crave you in the same way you write of wanting me. I yearn to hear your sensual brogue whispered in my ear. To watch you bustle about the house, so fast and busy, yet always so graceful. To bury my nose in your beautiful brown locks, breathing in your sweet scent. To pull you into my arms and kiss you with all the love in my heart, the way you deserve to be kissed. And I vow to do just that._

_Hopelessly devoted to you, my goddess,_

_Charles Carson_

* * *

Elsie let the letter fall to her desk, standing up quickly to throw open the door. She ran down the hall to Charles's pantry, opening the door and slamming it shut in the same instant. He turned, startled. "Is everything alright?"

She took the silver he had been polishing and set it on his desk, quickly returning to push her chest against his. Leaning in, she whispered in his ear, over-exaggerating her Scottish lilt. "Kiss me the way I deserve to be kissed."

Without thinking, Charles wrapped both arms tightly around her to capture her mouth. Wasting no time, his tongue snaked out to run across her lips. She opened her mouth, allowing his smooth tongue to slip into a feverish dance with hers. He moved closer, nipping at her bottom lip teasingly. Elsie pulled away quickly, breaking the contact of their moist lips.

Breathing heavily she told him, "Watch it, Charles! I'm much too valuable for you to go about damaging me."

He chuckled loudly. "There's the girl I missed!" Charles pulled her back in for another passionate kiss, pulling her close with an arm around her small waist.

* * *

**Please leave a review with your thoughts so far. Feedback helps my writing more than you'll ever know! Thanks again for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Charles spent the rest of the day in a haze, polishing the same piece of silver four times, maneuvering the house with a purpose only to forget what it was halfway through, and nearly missing the dressing gong altogether. Elsie was all he could think about. The sound of her whispering in his ear. The feeling of her smooth lips on his. The way her fingers sifted through the hair at the nape of his neck. Without consciously realizing it, Charles' hand drifted up to the back of his head to feel the spot she had held him close by.

"Carson, are you feeling quite alright?" Asked Lady Mary as he leaned closed to serve her the first course of hors d'oeuvres.

"Yes, milady." He answered with a quick nod, dropping his hand.

"Well, you seem a million miles away." She sounded as genuine as a woman of her sorts could.

"Carson, if you're not feeling quite yourself yet, do not be afraid to say so. I would gladly make do without you a few more days to ensure you're in good health." Lord Grantham added from across the table.

"Nothing of the sort to worry about, my Lord." He told them, nodding once more before leaving the dining room to retrieve the next course from William.

* * *

Elsie stared into the mirror, patting her hair and pinching her cheeks to show a little color on her pale skin. She suddenly felt like a foolish school girl, checking her appearance before dinner. Taking one last deep breath, she smoothed her hands over the front of her dress and left her sitting room for the servant's hall. Her heart was beating out of her chest in anticipation of seeing him again. However, when rounding the corner, she found the head of the table empty. Deflated, Elsie took her seat to the right of his, hoping he would be down soon.

When a good portion of her stew was gone and he still hadn't shown up, she began to worry. "William?" she asked towards the end of the table, hoping no one else would concern themselves with their conversation.

"Yes, Mrs. Hughes?" He replied with a wide, slightly nervous grin.

"You wouldn't happen to know where Mr. Carson got off to after the dinner service, would you?"

"No ma'am," he answered timidly, staring at his food.

"Thank you anyway." She told him, disappointment lacing her tone.

William let out a calming breath, assuming the worst of his task was over. He truly didn't know where Mr. Carson had gone. He had however, noticed the butler carrying a plate of sandwiches into his pantry after the dressing gong. The boy's confusion was piqued when Mr. Carson had instructed him to keep Mrs. Hughes occupied as long as possible during dinner.

"If you all will excuse me, I have some rather pressing business to tend to." Mrs. Hughes told the staff before rising to leave.

"Um, well, Mrs. Hughes, I need you to help me with...the...the wine selection!"

"William, don't be foolish. That's Mr. Carson's responsibility. I will let him know how wiling to help you were though. I'm sure it will not go unnoticed." She gave him a proud smile and turned to leave anyway. William racked his brain for any reason to hold her back. Finding none, he let her go with a sense of disappointment in himself.

* * *

The first place Elsie checked was his pantry, only to find the lights off and his paperwork put away for the night. Assuming his Lordship had needed him upstairs, she went to her sitting room to wait for their nightcap. As she neared the room, the faint sound of deep humming was slipped through the crack in the door. She stopped and smiled widely, loving the sound of his voice, and more importantly the joy in it.

She pushed the door open quietly and leaned against the threshold. Biting her lip, she watched him dance around the room to the instrumental music coming through the radio on her desk. The light thud when she shut the door caught his attention and he turned to face her with red-tipped ears.

"Oh, Elsie!" He greeted her looking adorably embarrassed. "William was supposed to keep you occupied a bit longer..."

She giggled. "Well, that would certainly explain his sudden interest in your wine choices."

Charles let out a chuckle of his own. "I shall have to make a point to train that boy in the ways of a sleuth."

"Because you are quite the expert on those matters?" She quipped with a playful smirk.

"There is many a thing you have yet to learn about me, Elsie Hughes." He played along, moving closer.

"I look forward to learning all of your hidden talents." She answered, blushing as she realized the double meaning too late.

A true gentleman, he ignored her suggestive comment and asked instead, "May I have this dance?"

"Of course."

They set in to a slow waltz, spinning in the cramped space between her settee, and the fire he had started in the hearth. As her nerves eased, Elsie let herself enjoy the feel of him holding her, an arm around her waist and another resting on her arm. She leaned in to rest her head against his broad chest and listened to his thunder of a heart beat echo there.

Charles decided to say exactly what he was thinking. "I hope you can't hear how fast the old ticker is going..." He sounded timid and embarrassed, a side she rarely saw from him.

"I must say I'm glad it isn't your head on my chest. You would hear nothing but my nerves." She looked up into his eyes. "I've never done anything like this before..."

"I can honestly say I haven't either. I suppose we'll be learning together." His voice was loving, giving her the support and kindness she needed to feel at ease.

"You mean you don't have women falling all over you? Seeing as how you _are_ butler of such a prestigious and dignified house as Downton." Elsie used his own words to tease him.

His laugh rumbled in his chest and she set her head down to listen to it. Charles held her a little closer, wrapping both arms around her back. "Hardly. I've never had much of a way with the ladies," he joked light-heartedly.

"Oh, don't give me that!" She quipped, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. "By the likes of those letters you are quite the romantic!"

Charles tilted her chin up to stare into her clear blue eyes. "Only with you, Elsie. I've never said those things before, hadn't even thought them...until I met you."

She looked as if she could cry as Charles leaned down to place a warm, slow kiss to her lips. "I love you," she murmured against his mouth without pulling away. He groaned his response, pulling her harder against him, while his tongue teased her lips. She let him in instantly, wanting him to suffice the burning hunger within her. Charles' hands ran up and down her sides, before slowing to linger. One above her bottom and the other tangled in her slightly un-done hair.

Elsie's mind was running wild, she wanted so much of him, and all she could think is how much she wanted him to have her as well. Reaching behind her, she gently scooted Charles' hand down to rest on her bottom. He groaned into her open mouth before pulling back. "Elsie, you never have to feel any obligations with me. I only want to do what you're comfortable with. Even if that means we are limited to lacing pinkies and kissing cheeks for a while."

"Oh, you dear, sweet man. Saying things like that only makes me want this more." Elsie cupped his cheek with one hand and gave him a firm kiss. When she pulled back, her thumb lingered to stroke his cheek. The only sound in the room for a while was the soft music, seeing as how both were content to dance together in silence.

"I brought what wine was left from tonight's service, if you fancy a glass?" He offered, speaking into the curls atop her head before placing a kiss there.

"I'd like that very much." She told him, reluctantly pulling back. He moved to her desk to pour two glasses. When he turned to hand Elsie her glass, he found her on the settee, staring at the fire with her feet tucked beneath her.

Charles came to sit beside her, handing over one of the glasses. "Here's to learning something new." He said, holding his glass out for her to toast.

"Together." Elsie added, clinking their glasses together and taking a sip. "This is very nice."

"Yes. It's a rather old Cabernet. I thought it would go well with the fish Mrs. Patmore served tonight." He said rather seriously, swirling the contents of his glass before taking another small sip.

"I meant being here with you!" She giggled at his studious manner. "However, the wine is a lovely addition."

Charles shook his head at his lapse, awarding her with another smile. "I'm enjoying it as well. How has the rest of your day gone?"

"Not nearly as nice as this. It was rather slow, actually. I suppose it was my own fault though, I had a hard time concentrating." She admitted, staring into the bottom of her glass.

"As did I. I did manage to upset a rather fiery Scottish Housekeeper, though." Charles admitted with another chuckle, covering her hand with his.

"I assume you would not fancy her without that fire though?" Elsie teased.

"Precisely!" He answered, leaning in for another slow, simple kiss.

Elsie laced her fingers tighter with his and closed her eyes, contented. "I'm particularly worried about Mr. Bates settling in," she said, leaning her head against the back of the sofa.

"You are not the only one. I admit I had my reservations towards him in the beginning, but he has stepped up to the job in more ways than I could have asked. I just wish the rest of the staff would show a little hospitality."

"I get the feeling Thomas and O'Brien may be the ones protesting the welcome wagon."

"I plan on having a sit down with Thomas sometime this week to discuss his attitude."

"Good luck with that!" She exclaimed. "I made the decision years back to let O'Brien have her fill of scheming and plotting, because her plans rarely work out in the end."

When Charles took her glass to set beside his on the table, Elsie scooted closer. He turned around to find she was right at his shoulder. "Mr. Barrow is a bit harder case to crack, though." He stated. Elsie slowly rested her head on his shoulder, and hesitantly wrapped her arms around his middle. Charles heart beat out of his chest as he watched her cling to him, wondering when he would wake up from this dream.

"That he is," she smirked. In silence, he studied the pattern her thumb was stroking in bend of his arm. Pulling her hand up, Charles kissed the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse under his tongue. "I suppose I should let you get off to bed, then. You've had a big day." Elsie told him in a soft, reluctant voice.

"If you insist," he sighed, pulling her closer to place a kiss to her forehead. Charles stood up first, giving Elsie his hand as leverage. "Just one more dance," he insisted, pulling her against him and swaying slowly to a new song playing on the wireless.

Elsie looked up to him, pretending to contemplate her decision. "I suppose I can make time for one more, but that's it!" She warned playfully. Putting her head against his chest once more, she followed the lead his steps were taking. When the song ended, they pulled apart and Charles gave her an elegant bow, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

"Oh, you poor sap!" She teased, stretching on her toes to kiss him slowly but with passion. His hand resting on her bottom, of his own accord this time. "Goodnight, my man." She told him with a smile when they pulled apart.

Charles led them to the door, opening it for himself, and turning to whisper, "Sleep well, my love." Even though the majority of the staff were already in the attics, he made a point to tread lightly. He kissed the back of her hand before turning to leave. Snapping out of her fairy tale, Elsie remembering the most important aspect of the night, and rushed down the hall after him. Grabbing his arm to turn him around, she pushed a letter into his hand and stretched on the tips of her toes to whisper, "A bedtime story," in his ear. Kissing his cheek, she swatted him up the stairs.

Once back in her sitting room, Elsie blew out the lamps, turned off the wireless, pulled down the chimney damper and picked up the half-full wine glasses from the sideboard. She smiled a wide and satisfied smile as she took the crystal to the scullery, feeling wanted, cherished, and desired. As she set them in the sink, she pictured Charles reading her rather risqué letter in bed, and squirmed with anticipation for his reaction.

* * *

Upstairs, Charles had changed into his pajamas and was settling into bed. He turned to retrieve Elsie's letter from the small stack of stationary accumulating on his nightstand and began reading...

* * *

_My Truest of Loves,_

_I hope you are reading this in privacy. Better yet even, in your bed at night. I picture you there as I write this, in the small bed made for one. I see two people there though. I can picture myself with you in the warm sheets, wrapped in your arms. I picture the two of us everywhere I go lately: in my sitting room, your pantry, the settee in the library, the bed at the end of the East Wing. I never knew quite how exhilarating it would feel to call you "my love" until I did. Now I wonder what it would be like to call you "my lover". To have you in every way. I feel so forward, so...wanton...but not ashamed. I could never be ashamed of craving your touch. I imagine waking next to you every day. Watching the way you stir in your sleep. Staring at you, and understanding precisely why you are so tired. I would kiss you awake, and pull you close, so that we may exhaust each other all over again. I want to devote every last drop of my energy to showing you the love in my heart. I can afford this luxury in my dreams, and it feels so real. Most nights you are a prisoner in my bed that I have no intentions of setting free. I can practically feel your skin on mine. You lying above me, so close and warm. I need you closer still, so I wrap my arms around your back, rubbing circles there as I tighten my grip, eager to drown in you. You kiss me and I am yours. I lose the ability to think, finding I can only feel. Then I wake, my hunger for you stronger and deeper each morning. Forgive my honesty and forward nature, but I intent to waste no time in bearing my heart to you, even this lustful facet._

_I Shall Want You Until the End of Days,_

_Elsie Hughes_

* * *

Charles' breath was uneven and heavy, thinking only of going to find her now. Knocking down as many doors as needed to join her in bed. He would capture her mouth and let his hands roam over her body. But, his love and respect for her stifled his lust, keeping him in bed. He decided instead to indulge in one of the dreams his love had mentioned...

* * *

**Author's Note: **

**I hope you didn't think the latest letter was too out of character. But as my wondrous beta, _Mona Love_, said "Who knows what these two are going to be like once the beast gets unleashed." so I suppose anything could happen.  
**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:**

**This is a bit shorter because it is more of a filler than anything. However, it is still important to the story and you have to read it for the next installment to make any sense. I really hope you enjoy this, and chapter six should be up soon!**

* * *

"Mr. Carson!" Elsie barked down the hall, speeding off to his pantry. The younger members of the staff stopped in their tracks, intimidated by her temperamental fire. She pushed open the door to find him sifting the sediments out of a bottle of wine. She slammed the door and locked it quickly, tapping her foot until all of the red liquid had dripped from the bottle into the decanter.

Charles stood when he was finished, wiping his hands on a rag and asking rather calmly, "Yes?"

Her lips spread in a wide smile as she crossed to him. Pressing her chest to his she looked up into her eyes and said with a hint of seduction, "Am I really that poor of an actress?"

"You really are." He told her with a playful smile. Pulling her closer with a rough grip on her hips, he met her plump lips halfway in a heated kiss. They slipped into this new form of intimacy they had been learning together. It was natural and easy, as if they had been stealing heated kisses for years now. The thought of having the other so close was a tease, drawing them together at intervals during the day. The strokes of their soft, gentle tongues soon turned rushed and eager, a need from deep within ripping through. Elsie pulled Charles back until her knees hit his desk. He lifted her up by the waist to set her atop his paperwork. His large, firm hands ran from her knees up her sides slowly, closing in on her breasts. A dish shattered in the kitchen, and they pulled apart quickly, startled.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Patmore!" Daisy whined loudly, fear lacing her voice. Elsie ran her hands over Charles' chest slowly, but refrained from leaning into another kiss. They had gone much farther than she had intended, no matter how intoxicating and alluring his warm lips were.

"So, what have you been up to today?" Charles asked, seeing the restraint in her eyes and wanting to help shift their focus.

"Oh, just another _riveting_ day!" She quipped with a grin, wanting to hear him chuckle. When he did she continued with a new light in her eyes, "I've been lucky enough to spend most of the day downstairs. Although, I did go oversee the changing of linens in the East Wing. It was nice to visit the red room." This had always been her favorite room in the house and talking about it brought a hopeful smile to her face that Charles didn't miss. It was not the largest or most extravagant guest room, but it was a decent sized suite decorated with a glamorous scarlet pallet and deep mahogany furniture. It was simple and elegant and Elsie had admitted to Charles years ago how much she loved it.

"One day I will make sure you have your very own red room." He told her sweetly, helping her down from her perch and motioning to the armchairs across from his desk. They each took a seat and turned in towards each other.

"That's quite the promise," she joked with a smile. It made her heart flutter to think about the two of them owning a home to themselves. Having her own private escape with him was a favorite amongst day dreams. "What about you? How have you been keeping busy? It seems I've only seen you in passing."

"I am not as lucky as you, my dear. I have been up and down the stairs today far too many times for an old man. His Lordship keeps ringing to change the order of the dinner service. It was a relief to finally see them off." The entire family had gone to the Dowager House for luncheon per request of the Countess.

"And what did his Lordship settled upon?"

"An early dinner restricted to the family. If everything runs on schedule, I may give the staff the night off." Elsie cleared her throat and cut her eyes at him. "That is...If those plans are agreeable with you?"

She feigned a proud look of surprise, "How nice of you to ask my opinion. I would have no objection to that, Mr. Carson. Although, I think it would be in everyone's best interest if you and I stay back. To keep the house under control, of course..." she added slyly with a glint in her eye.

"How very responsible of you, Mrs. Hughes." He reached over to pull her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss in her open palm. "I shall have a tray waiting for us after the dinner service if you would care to join me tonight."

"That is the only way I would want to spend my night," she said, standing and crossing to give him a soft kiss. When they pulled apart Charles gave her a wiggle of his eyebrows and a knowing look. "Alright, perhaps not the only way," she added meekly, blushing and turning for the door. It felt much different to be so forward with spoken word, rather than written. Something about having to look him in the eye and admit her fantasies was frightening, but erotic at the same time.

"Perhaps we can negotiate that other thing." Charles said flatly; already back to work at his desk.

"Charles!" she exclaimed with a giggle, turning around to gawk at him. "I'll see you tonight." She opened the door and left, trying hard to paint another expression over the nervous school-girl grin she sported the entire walk back to her sitting room.

* * *

After watching the last of the staff leave through the back door, Elsie began tidying her sitting room. As she was turning out the last lamp, Charles barged in. Elsie turned to ask, "I thought we were going to you pa-"

He shut her up with a heated kiss, deeper and more stimulating that the one they had shared earlier, if that were even possible. She moaned into his mouth as he weaved his fingers through her tightly pinned braids. His tongue slipped past her lips, and Elsie felt her knees wobble. She let him take control, content to be explored in any fashion he chose. It ended sooner than she would have hoped, with one last nibble on the lips from him. Charles left without an explanation, pointing to her dress pocket as he shut the door behind him.

Confused, Elsie reached into the large pocket in her uniform and pulled out an envelope addressed to her. She giggled at how wrapped up in the kiss she had gotten. He had touched her with such haste and passion she couldn't decipher what hand was where. Pulling the letter from the envelope she grinned widely at the elegant writing she knew would was engraved on her heart.

* * *

_For My Love's Eyes Only,_

_Meet me in your favorite room in one hour. I have informed Mr. Bates that I would be retiring early, and instructed him to lock the back door when all the staff had returned. I will bring up wine and a tray of sweets. Come in your dressing gown and we shall make it a proper pyjama party!_

_You Make Me Want For Nothing,_

_Charles Carson_

_P.S. I hope you do not think me a forward cad. My only intention is to give you a relaxing night by the fire, in a room worthy of such beauty and grace as yours._

* * *

**Author's Note 2:**

**With the next chapter we will be moving up to a M rating. I promise it is a tasteful and loving scene we are embarking upon, and I hope you read it! However, this entire story will disappear into the "M" section soon so if you don't want to lose it in the grand pile of Downton smut, please follow! **

**Tell me what you're thinking in your reviews!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:**

**WARNING: This is a tastefully mature chapter.**

* * *

Elsie studied herself in the mirror, pushing a stray strand of hair behind her ears. The ring of keys sat on the dresser, taunting her. The keys represented everything and nothing. They were a constant reminder of the responsibility and trust she had been awarded from the Crawley's. And wasn't this meeting a slap in the face to them? A complete disregard to the position she had been given. This was wrong, clandestine, and completely improper. Perhaps changing back into her uniform would be a sufficient self-compromise. Maybe then she could insure herself all they were doing was talking and relaxing together. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that her clothes meant nothing. If something less than innocent were meant to happen...it would.

She wanted so badly to be the daring, sensual goddess Charles made her out to be. That was the farthest thing from what she was feeling at the moment. Elsie Hughes was a simple woman, refined and proper, living a quiet life. But the quite life wasn't satisfying anymore. There was no sort of life that seemed appealing, without him in it. For this reason, she slipped two keys from their chain on the dresser. One to the red bedroom in the East wing, and one back into the servants' quarters. Both slid into the pocket on her robe, weighing down the entire left side of the garment. Taking a deep breath, she tightened the ties of her dressing gown and took off.

Elsie's steps were light and silent. The creaking of the boards were uncharacteristically silent tonight, as if the house were approving of this scandal. With each step her confidence increased. It was a rush to be blatantly contrary like this, having no regard for propriety. That is, until she came out of the servant's entrance to the East wing. The door she feared and longed for the most was to her right. Her heart picked up pace, threatening to wake the house with its thumping. She continued on though, determined to make herself happy for once. Sliding the key into the lock, Elsie opened the door with ease. In the darkness, she fumbled for the nightstand, pulling a box of matches from its drawers when she found it. She sparked it against the wood of the bed post and dropped it in the lamp, illuminating the room with a soft glow.

The room looked even more elegant from a guest's point of view. Elsie didn't remember it seeming this ornate all the times she had overseen the linen changings. Now it's scarlet draperies and maroon pillows seemed richer...softer on the eye even, making her expectation for the night more delicate and special. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and ignited her raging nerves again.

Charles let himself in, locking the door behind him before turning to see her. His jaw went slack and his eyes wide at the sight before him. The woman of his dreams stood tall and proud, with a smile on her lips and a glint in the blue orbs that were focused intently on him. Her hair, brown silk waves, that ran down her back in long braid, and her neck was exposed where the deep dip in her maroon robe met the neckline of her white nightgown.

"You look beautiful." Charles told her sincerely with a look of amazement on his face.

"Thank you," she answered, blushing under his gaze. "Perhaps you could..." she motioned to the covered tray in his hands.

"Oh, yes. I'll just set these down while I start a fire." Doing just that, he moved between the large settee and the fireplace, setting the wine and desserts on a sideboard and bending to spark a small blaze.

Taking a throw blanket from an armchair, Elsie removed her dressing gown and went to join him. In only her light nightgown, Elsie suddenly felt bare and indecent. She pulled the blanket high on her chest, watching Charles stare at his creation in the hearth.

He picked the tray from the floor and sat with it in his lap, across from her on the long sofa.

"You needn't sit so far away, Charles. I won't be able to reach any of whatever you're hiding if you stay there." Elsie felt more comfortable when she joked with him like this, taking this potentially serious step in their relationship with a light-hearted edge.

He let out a chuckle and scooted close to her, balancing the tray on both of their knees now. "Close your eyes. I want you to be surprised,"

Elsie smiled at how excited pleasing her made him. Shutting her eyes as instructed, she heard the top of the tray being pulled off with a _clink_.

"Now, keep your eyes closed and open your mouth." He instructed in a husky whisper that made her spine tingle. Picking up a sliver of chocolate, Charles ran it against her bottom lip slowly before letting her tongue it from his fingers and into her mouth. "What was that?" he asked, focused more on the dark stains on her pink lips then he was on finding an answer.

"Chocolate. Dark Chocolate. You'll have to work much harder than that if you're trying to stump me!" she told him with a loving smile.

"Challenge accepted, Milady." Next, he chose a slice of tangerine, assuming she would guess it to be an orange. "Your eyes are still closed, right?" he teased.

"Yes, Charles," she giggled, spreading her plump pout. He slid the fruit across her lips as he had the chocolate and slipped it into her mouth. Before he could pull back, she grabbed his wrist, holding his fingers in place to suck the juices from each one. He couldn't help but groan. "Tangerine," she said after kissing the last of his digits.

"Hmm. You are quite the savant aren't you, my dear? I'm rather impressed." She let out another giggle, finally feeling her nerves subside as she had known they would. "Now, this next one is a wine," he warned her.

"Charles! You're not supposed to tell me! That ruins the fun!" she crossed her arms to pout like child.

"Oh, come now. This is the hardest yet, you must guess the type _and_ the year."

"Gladly," Elsie said with a smirk as he raised the glass to her lips. He tilted it slowly, giving her only a small taste to make it as challenging as possible. "Hmm..." she mused, "This is a bit more difficult..." Charles had a smug look on his face as he set the tray and glass on the floor in front of them. "Is it a Merlot?" she asked.

"Yes, but what is the age? That is the real question here."

"Nineteen...Nineteen...Nineteen-aught-four?" Elsie guessed sounding unsure.

Charles' laugh rang out through the room, and she opened her eyes to look at his expression of amazement. "You are correct, my little culinary expert," he whispered, wrapping both arms around her to pull them together in a smooth, warm kiss. Elsie weaved both hands into the hair on the back of his head, as she had the first time they shared a kiss of this nature, in his pantry. The blanket that had been serving as a bit of modesty fell between them as she pushed herself onto her knees, forcing him to crane his neck to stay connected.

When they pulled apart breathless, Elsie asked, "What was that last thing I tasted? I seem to like it the best."

"You sly minx," he told her, stretching up to give her a quick kiss. "Now, come back down here! It is far too hard to kiss you when you are all the way up there." He joked, pulling her down softly with a hand on each hip.

"Now you know how I feel." Elsie teased, sliding down into his lap gracefully.

Charles pulled her against him in a close embrace. Wrapping both arms around her, he began drawing lazy circles through her cotton nightgown.

"Is this foolish of us, Charles?" Elsie asked "To meet in secret like this...alone in a bedroom days after we began..._courting_? Is that even the right word for what we're doing?" She pulled back to meet his gaze, suddenly scared, but of what, neither knew.

"No. It isn't, my dearest. The right word for this is love, and for that reason, we may meet wherever we like, and do whatever we please. My only intention is to love you, and I have no guilt about it, so long as you are happy."

"Oh, you dear sweet man," she whispered against his lips before capturing them in a heated kiss. Elsie opened her mouth against his as Charles eased her down against the pillows. "Not here," she said against his spread lips just as his hands began exploring.

He pushed himself up from the settee with a groan, pulling his pajama shirt over his head. "That is supposed to be my job, Mr. Carson!" She jumped up to give him another warm kiss and a playful slap to his bare chest, before pulling him slowly by the hand to the bed. She released her grip on his hand to climb onto the red comforter on her knees. Sitting tall with open arms, Elsie sent him a silent invitation to join her.

Charles crawled in beside her, reaching behind her back to pull at the ribbon holding her braid. Her dark waves unraveled and spread across her back. He pulled the locks forward to frame her face and tumble down her shoulders. Whispering, "Beautiful."

"I love you," she vowed, cupping his cheeks and beginning another feverish kiss. Elsie leaned back into the pillows, pulling Charles with her. His hands exploring her sides as his kisses wandered away from her lips.

"You are my life, Elsie Hughes." Charles admitted against her neck, lavishing the smooth skin there in hot wet kisses. She sighed at his words, knowing there were true because he was her life as well. Coming impossibly closer, she latched onto his neck as well. It was the beginning of the two drowning in each other, the way she written to him about.

Charles' hands were shaking in anticipation as he reached for the hem of her nightgown. He pulled it slowly from her body, savoring every newly exposed inch of her. Shaking his head he asked no one in particular, "What have I done to deserve you?" Before he knew it, she was bare before him with a lustful look on her face and a flush spreading across her chest.

Elsie could feel his nerves, not from the shaking of his hands or the thumping of his heart. No, she felt it much deeper, from that strange place in her heart that always understood and saw straight through Charles. Saving him any trouble, Elsie flipped them to straddle his stomach.

It was a hard to miss fact that Charles Carson was an immensely tall man, but Elsie had never realized just how much he towered over her until now. She flipped her hair over onto his chest and began the decent down his mountain of a body. Her dark waves crashed against the shore of his white chest behind her. At his waist, she stopped to push both his undershorts and trousers to his ankles. With his arousal staring her in the face, she couldn't resist taking him into her mouth, timidly at first, with small swirls of the tongue.

Charles gasped as she engulfed him. It was a sharpest of reminders that this was reality. She was here, and she was real. This goddess of a woman, introducing him to her warm, wet world. Before it was too late, Charles stopped her. "Elsie, please. I- I've too much-" he swallowed the lump in his throat "planned for - for it to all end here."

"And what is it that you have penciled in, darling?" she asked suggestively, finally flipping her hair over to look at him.

"All in due time," he groaned huskily, kicking his trousers and shorts off completely, before sitting up to capture the pink bud of her breast in his mouth.

She involuntarily rolled her hips over his, releasing a soft moan against his ear. Moving to the other bud, he wrapped one arm around his love and let the other wander to her most intimate place, exploring gently with new found confidence. Pulling her back against him, he rolled them over and positioned himself between her legs.

Elsie's head was thrown back in soft moans and pants as she tousled his hair out of its pomaded sculpture. Missing the feel of her tongue, he came back up to pull her into a stimulating kiss.

He pulled away to ask permission, only to be bested by her answer. "Please, Charles. Now - Please." she begged, desperate.

Covering her mouth again, he replaced his hand with his manhood and pushed in gently. When her demands were met, Elsie broke their kiss to gasp loudly and throw her head back into the pillows. He went in further at an excruciatingly slow pace, wanting to remember each moment, each inch. When he was completely engulfed, Charles looked at her closed eyes, waiting for some unknown sign. The answer came in her hips thrusting up to push him impossibly deeper. Pleased that she wanted more of him, he began thrusting slowly, working up to a rhythm matching the pace of his lover's heartbeat.

"I love you," Elsie whimpered into his ear, raking her nails down his back to crush him harder against her.

"I love you." He shot back quickly, latching on to her neck with his hot, eager lips.

"Say my name," she panted, "tell_ ME_ you love me." She begged in a half-moan, having to make sure it was her he cared for, not her body.

"I love _you_ Elsie Carson. I love _you_." Charles may not have noticed calling her by his name, but she did and it sent her over the edge. The love in his voice, the havoc he was wreaking on her body, the thought of truly being Mrs. Carson combined in a wave of ecstasy. It began at her core and flared out, somehow reaching Charles and taking him with her. Elsie's soft moans joined Charles' primal groans in the thick air around them.

They came back down together, slumping into the bed, exhausted. Charles rolled off of her to tug at the corner of the extravagant red duvet cover. He crawled into the warmth, un-tucking it the rest of the way and offering Elsie his hand as she wiggled in with him.

After a period of blissful silence, Elsie whispered, "Did you say that on purpose?"

"What do you mean, my dearest?" He pulled her closer to drop feather-light kisses atop her head.

She looked up at him with wide hopeful eyes, "You called me Elsie Carson."

"No...I did not say it on purpose. It slipped out, because I tend to think of you that way. I always have. Even more now..." He chuckled, but Elsie couldn't find the joke in what he'd said.

Staying completely serious she hesitantly asked, "Is that a proposal?"

"If that's what you want it to be." Their eyes locked, hers swelling with tears. "Elsie Hughes, if I were so fortunate to have you as my wife, I would love, fight, and provide for you until the end of days."

Her tears fell slowly, a contradiction to the wide smile painted on her face. She stretched up to meet him in a slow, loving kiss so deep she felt it in her chest. "Are nights like this somewhere in that bargain?"

"Yes!" He chuckled, realizing in that moment he would never grow tired of her wit. "That deal includes endless nights together." He leaned down to kiss her forehead lightly.


	7. Chapter 7

**Winter of 1920**

**Eight Years Later**

* * *

Elsie held her keys tight to keep them from jingling as she walked through the men's corridor, breaking her own rule. She twisted the knob to let herself in, knocking long forgotten in their relationship. The old boards of the attic floor creaked as she made her way to his bed. Lifting up the corner of the thin sheet, Elsie kicked off her slippers to slide into bed with her husband.

"Elsie?"

"Who else?" she asked playfully leaning over to place a soft kiss on his bare chest.

"Elsie, what if someone hears us?" Charles pulled her head up from where she was acquainting her lips with the graying hair of his broad chest.

"I suppose you'll just have to try your best to restrain," she raised her eyebrows knowingly before moving to his neck to suckle at his pulse point.

"God, woman!" he groaned when she nipped at his neck, flipping himself on top of her to take control. He swooped in to kiss her properly, pressing his lips firmly to hers before deepen it with his tongue. One hand twisted into her hair, the other softly kneading her breast. Elsie reached down to reciprocate the groping, cupping him through his pajama bottoms, using the tips of her dainty fingers to trace his growing arousal.

He pulled away from her hot mouth to groan again and stare into his lover's eyes. Elsie put a finger from her free hand to his lips, "Shhh, my love, _restraint_, remember?" Slipping her hand under the waistband of his pants, she wrapping it his length to stroke slowly.

"But, you make it so hard!" he whispered to her huskily before capturing the giggle slipping through her lips. He kissed her fully and with an urgency, using his soft tongue, hot lips and nipping teeth to tell her how much he loved her, how much he needed her. Charles moved his hand from where he was gently kneading her breasts to hike up her nightgown. When he could feel her the smooth skin of her thighs and the heat radiating from between them, he pulled back from her mouth. Staring at the milky white skin there he began scratching her thighs lightly with both hands, leaving red paths wherever his nails had traveled. Kissing down her neck, Charles whispered against her goose bumped skin, "You are so beautiful. What did I do to deserve a goddess? Such a beautiful" -kiss- "sensual" -kiss- "dark haired goddess."

Elsie moaned softly as his words heightened her pleasure. Those hopelessly romantic words that held enough weight in her heart to begin their marriage. "Oh, Charles!" she gasped as he pulled down her nightgown to suck at her nipple roughly, before switching to teasingly light nips. "Oh, yes Charles-I-Oh! That's-" she moaned, feeling all conscious thought slip away. His hand wandered lower, stroking her moist center before slipping in a finger that she was more than ready for. She sighed and rolled her hips closer to his hand.

As much as Elsie was enjoying this complete worship of her body, she craved his pleasure more than her own. Wanting him to experience this delicious physical sting of their love, with her, she pushed his shoulders up, urging him onto his back. When he rolled over, Elsie shifted away from his hot mouth to reward him with her own. Scooting between his legs, she tugged off her husbands pajama bottoms, tossing them across the room before bending down slowly, eyes locked on his. Expelling a hot, heavy breath onto the bulge in his undershorts, she tortured him with implacable teasing.

Charles' manhood twitched beneath the fabric, as he let out a guttural moan. "Shhh," Elsie instructed him with her lips against his arousal, making him grunt again at the sweet vibrations. Spreading her plump lips, she began running her smooth tongue up and back down the length of him, stopping to suck at the tip through the soft fabric.

"My God! You wicked woman," he breathed out, pulling her lightly by the elbows back to his mouth. Her lips opened to allow his tongue in for a dance with her own.

Charles flipped their positions so he was hovering above her. The small iron bed that was made for one, very small, person creaked loudly and rammed against the wall with two people actively testing it's strengths. Both Carsons froze, staring into each other's eyes with an amused but nervous look. Both hoping to God they hadn't woken the room beside them. Hearing nothing but silence adjacent to them, Elsie broke out in a fit of giggles. Charles leaned in with a chuckle to kiss her scrunched nose, reaching for the hem of her nightgown and pulling it over her head in one swift motion.

Capturing his lips mid-laugh, Elsie shifted back into their passionate love-making seamlessly. Their snickers broke into moans as Elsie pushed down Charles' undershorts and felt his hard arousal slap down onto her lower stomach. "Oh! I suppose I have sufficiently teased you then?" She asked seductively in his ear, running her fingers across his length before positioning him where they both needed each other the most.

"Perhaps it's my turn now?" he responded, pressing his arousal against her hot wet center and rolling his hips slowly, avoiding entry.

"Oh, my love..." she moaned, eyes fluttering shut, "I take it all back, just please- I- Please!"

"Please what?" his tone was average volume as he attempted a whisper.

"I need you, Charles. Now!" Elsie whimpered her demands as his manhood slid against her sensitive nub.

"Of course, my queen," he answered, dropping to kiss his wife's plump parted lips. Pushing in slowly, Charles and Elsie's moans mingled between joined lips. When he was completely sheathed within her, he threw his head back to groan, "I love you, Elsie Carson. I love you- I love you..."

Charles moved slowly at first, waiting for her signal to continue. Elsie pushed her hips up against his, with a long, soft moan, taking him completely again. Knowing she was ready, Charles fell into the natural rhythm they had created years ago to match their pounding heart beats and ragged panting.

Elsie's legs naturally wrapped themselves around her husbands thrusting hips. By now, her body is trained to move like this, to contort herself in a desperate attempt to accept as much of him as possible. It was as much a habit for Charles to bow his head into the crook of her neck, lavishing her neck in kisses and her ear in shiver-inducing nibbles.

As his wife's nails dug into his back, he could feel the imminent release they were both so close to. He knew he was swelling inside of her, and could feel her walls contracting. Taking his hand from where it was intertwined in her hair, Charles began massaging frantic circles between Elsie's thighs on the little bump he knew would throw her overboard. And it did...she was tossed completely out of consciousness, drowning in pleasure and the only thought she could conjure is the certainty that her husband has followed. That somehow he fell with her, that they're swimming together, still connected in the bed of his cold attic room, but somewhere so blissful and full of ecstasy at the same time. And then it's over, and she opens her eyes to the ceiling above, feels the weight she is always happy to be crushed under, hovering above.

Rolling off of her, Charles flipped them for the last time during the coupling, pulling out as she settled atop him. Elsie was so warm and heavy against his chest, but fragile and light at the same time, like a human blanket covering him in the warmth of their love.

"I love you, Mr. Carson," she whispered, already drifting to sleep atop him.

"And I love you, Mrs. Carson," he answered, pressing kiss after light kiss into the mess of brown waves on top of her head as they spilled over onto his chest.

* * *

Charles woke first, arms still wrapped tightly around Elsie. Yawning into her shoulder, he began rubbing lazy circles around his wife's navel. He placed warm kisses to her shoulder and she stirred in her sleep.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"Not to worry, it's a fine way to be woken." she murmured into the pillow they shared, "Has Daisy come knocking yet?"

"No. I imagine it's not much past four, but I cannot seem to let go of you long enough to check the clock."

"Oh, you poor romantic," Elsie turned in his arms to show him her best pout and give him a soft good morning kiss. "What does today look like for you?"

"Dreadful. It seems my request with his Lordship to stay in this bed the rest of the day was denied."

Elsie swatted his arm playfully, "Charles Carson! You asked no such thing!"

"Sadly, no. Although, If I had thought his answer would be favorable I would have asked ages ago."

"I promise everyone will know eventually." she vowed, suddenly serious. She leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. It had been eight years since they were married, and he sat wondering if that had any hint to how long 'eventually' meant. Charles kept quiet, happy to have her in public or in private. He watched with a smile as she climbed out of bed, completely naked and reaching for her robe.

"Oh, must you put it on so soon?"

"Unless you would like me to return to my room unclad in all my glory...then yes. I must," Elsie walked back to bed to award him a proper kiss.

"When you put it that way I suppose I've no argument. The only man I trust around you is Thomas, and even that is a stretch."

"Charles! No need to be ugly," she swatted his arm with mock offense.

"I am not being '_ugly_' as you put it. I much prefer the word 'honesty'."

"Well, my _honest_ man, it seems its time to get up and began your_ honest_ work." They shared one more loving kiss before Elsie made her way to the door.

The sight of her shapely hips swaying against the silk of her robe almost made Charles forget to stop her, "Darling, your ring is still on."

"Oh!" she looked down at her left hand just as she was coming to the door, "Thank you, my dear!" she said, dropping the ring into her bosom for safe keeping until she could tuck it away in the small satin box it belonged in.

Charles shook his head with a wide smile at her choice of storage before getting up to gather his things for a particularly hot morning bath.

* * *

Midday, Elsie found time to steal away to Charles' pantry. She pushed in without a knock, looking shaken and confused.

Charles looked up from his paperwork and pushed his chair back, letting her slide into the gap between him and the desk. She slumped to a seat on the hard edge and stared at him with wide doe eyes, tears threatening to escape.

He took her hand in his, and asked, "What is it, my love? You look as if you've seen a ghost! Oh...Is this about Bates?" A single tear escaped as she nodded. "Well, all we can do is stand firm in the truth. He is an innocent man and will be back with us in no ti-"

"Anna is pregnant."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**Well, this is definitely the end of this story. However, I have a complete outline for a follow-up story that picks up right where this left off. I will only write it if I get a hearty amount of requests though considering I have other projects lined up. One of which being a collaboration with the lovely _Lavender and Hay_ which will be taking up a chunk of my time, so look out for a new Richobel! I really sincerely hope I did these characters justice and that you enjoyed the path I took them down! Leave your reviews and drop me a PM if you want more.**


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